


there are no great redeemers

by wolfchester



Series: am i a hero now? [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Gen, POV Second Person, i usually hate writing in second but it seemed to work well with this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2014-12-05
Packaged: 2018-02-28 05:17:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2720063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfchester/pseuds/wolfchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You were just trying to save your friends. You were just trying to-</p><p>Lips trembling. A whispered prayer: “Why?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	there are no great redeemers

**Author's Note:**

> got myself all hyped-up on sad finn collins feels after watching 2x06. enjoy.

You hate the way people look at you. Like you're some kind of monster. They never used to look at you like that. They used to look at you like you were a leader, a peacemaker, a good _person_. Clarke used to look at you like you were something special.

Now, all that you see in her eyes are watered-down apologies and arguments, a still small fire burning that says: _“Look what you’ve done.”_

You’ve hurt her, you know. You’ve hurt so many people. Not enough fingers to count them all.

 _“It was an accident,”_ you say, with pleading voice and pleading hands. " _I didn’t mean to do it.”_

(I didn’t mean to shoot eighteen unarmed and innocent people. I was only trying to find my friends. I was only trying to-)

Clarke’s here now but she can’t even look you in the eyes. Everything you two had, down the drain. Blood on your hands. And no matter how much you try to scrub them clean, she will always look at you different. She will always see your face as a patchwork of others - dead eyes in hollow sockets, rotted flesh, bullet wounds. Murphy’s voice shouting: _“Finn! Stop! Please, stop!”_

Not even Murphy looks at you normally, like you’re a real human being. Even Murphy glares at you from across the table, ice-cold stare that says: _“I watched you kill all those people. I watched you do it.”_

(You think you can earn redemption? Think again.)

You don’t expect people to forgive you. You don’t forgive himself. But you want people to try and see your side of things. You was just trying to save your friends. The jackets- they were hanging up behind that building. How could you have known? How could you have- Mount Weather wasn’t even something that _existed_ for you in that moment. How could you have known? You were just trying to save your friends. You just wanted to find Clarke, tell her you were sorry, give her the watch-

The watch. You slip it into her hands in that bunker, candlelight flickering across her bruised and bloody face. She looks beautiful, you think, she looks- She looks like she hates you. Will hate you. Forever. Stares at the cracked glass of the watch, mouth parted in shock. _“It was hanging around his neck.”_ A finger jabbed in the direction of the rotting Grounder carcass. No regard for human life. Lips trembling. A whispered prayer: _“Why?”_

(You don’t know, you don’t know.)

“I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

“Neither do I.”


End file.
